All for a boy
by TifaAndAerith
Summary: It's seven years since Voldemort's downfall, and Hermione and Draco have a son. Their life is perfect, until Draco's Dark Mark gives a painful burn one morning, and he has to decide between his old family or his new one..
1. Chapter 1

The first years of my life are a blur.

Like all children, memories fade, and some get richer with time.

Feeling a wet kiss on my head, then drops of warm ,happy tears.

My mother's angelic voice singing a lullaby to me as I fell asleep on her chest.

Meeting my father for the first time, he had come to tell my mother the war was over, and his mother, my grandmother was with him. They smiled at me.

My father coming home with my mother and I from the hospital.

I had a happy childhood, in fact, I had a wonderful childhood. My parents would dance in the kitchen to the wireless, I went to a nearby Muggle school, though I knew of the Wizarding world to which I belonged, and kept quiet about it. I had friends in the school, I kept good grades, I was a happy, healthy child.

But when I was seven years old, I realised my childhood wasn't wonderful, I was just naive and ignorant.

* * *

The sun shone through the window cheerfully, dancing across the wooden table.

'My Dark Mark is burning.'

'Do you know what this means? This isn't possible! We destroyed all the Horcruxes!'

The small boy, with a mess of dark brown hair, and peircing grey eyes, stared at the floor outside the kitchen, his tiny figure hidden in the early morning shadow of the walls.

He didn't understand a word of what his parents were hissing and yelling at each other.

But he knew that something was wrong. Very wrong.

The door flung open, a tall man, with platinum blonde hair smoothed back, stopped short at the sight of the child.

His grey eyes matched those of his son.

He had a pained expression as he tore his eyes from the boy, and walked out the door.

* * *

A woman with long brown curls down her back sat her son beside her as the London train picked up motion.

She pulled his head to her chest, kissing his forehead. She didn't want him to see the tears welling in her eyes, or the wand her hand was clenched around in her pocket.

But he knew.

He had seen his father's expression as he had left the house, his mother, him.

He saw how his mother threw clothes and other neccesities in a suitcase, and hurried him out the house, glancing behind her every few seconds.

'Mum?' he asked in a whisper, his small voice barely heard over the roar of the train.

'Yes, Jacob?' she asked, holding him closer.

'Does this mean I don't have to go to school today?'

For the first time that morning, her tense expression relaxed and she let out a laugh that filled the carriage.


	2. Chapter 2

I remember someone telling me : Man does not simply exist, but always decides what his existence will be, what he will become in the next moment.

Well, my parents had just made some of the biggest decisions of their life, and still had more to make.

My father had to decide whether to ensure his son's safety, or protect himself.

My mother had to decide what to do, how to be safe.

Jacob held his mothers hand tight, she was walking so fast he tripped over his own feet, but she refused to stop for long, pulling him up and moving on.

They had been walking for hours, down the Muggle-filled streets, when suddenly they stopped, and turned left, into a bar.

Jacob would have been confused, had he not been here before. He waved at Tom the barman, but his mother dragged him out the back before he could open his mouth, or even turn to see if Tom had acknowledged him. She finally let his small hand free, and pulled her wand out, tapping the bricks in the wall in a particular order.

Jacob sighed qiuetly to himself, looking down at himself as the brick wall opened up. It was uninteresting to him. He inspected his clothing critically; he was in his school uniform, white cotton shirt, emerald shorts, and shiny black shoes. Any other morning, it would have been spotless, but not today. He had dirty, grazed knees and muddy shoes from falling.

His mother would have scolded him any other morning, but she didn't seem to notice, so he kept quiet.

The tall, blonde man stepped off the train, onto the platform, and looked around swiftly. He hitched his jacket higher, held his suitcase tight and walked into the bustling crowd. The people in the crowd were half asleep, early morning commuters on their way to work or school, or perhaps an appointment. Too caught up in their own lives to notice anybody else, too busy to realise that the blonde man spun quickly, and disappeared into thin air.

'Draco. I am surprised that you showed.' the usually high, cold voice was low, and croaky from years of silence.

'Of course, master. Nothing would have gotten in my way.'

'Not even your halfblood son? Or your mudblood wife?'

Hermione blinked lazily, the room coming into view as she woke completely. She glanced over her shoulder at the small body snoozing peacefully behind her. She sighed sadly, and gently eased herself out of the sheets, onto her feet.

A quick look at the door showed that Tom had brought up breakfast already. She picked up the food laden tray, and set it on the bed, warming the coffee with a flick of her wand and picking up the newspaper.

She took a scalding mouthful of coffee the same moment she read the headlines, and instantly spat it out over herself, gasping in shock.

The headlines read 'MASS BREAKOUT AT AZKABAN - HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED FEARED RETURNED'


	3. Chapter 3

Oh god oh god oh god! I'm so sorry, I know its been ages since the last chapter. I've moved house again, and sort of forgot about this. I think I've lost my writing mojo, this chapter just doesnt seen right for some reason. Please review and let me know your opinion.

While Jacob ate his breakfast, Hermione thought long and hard. She dressed in warm, durable clothing, ready for any situation. She smiled as she slipped her arms through the too big woollen cardigan. It was from last Christmas, which they had spent with the Weasleys, and had a large H worked on the front in purple. It was when she was reminiscing, that she decided.

They would go to Harry.

She remembered how Harry and Ron had reacted to her pregnancy. They were shocked, upset, angry. Especially Ron, but of course he would have been, he loved Hermione and a small part of her thought he still did. 'How do you know it won't turn out like its father?' Harry had said. 'I can't believe you would do that. With him, of all people.' Ron had yelled. Hermione had sat through the argument silently, those moments had been the darkest of her life, when she thought she would lose her friends. But afterwards, they wiped her tears, hugged her tight, and tried hard to accept Draco Malfoy into their lives. -

'Hermione!' Harry swept her into his arms, and held her close, breathing in her scent. 'I knew you would show up.' he let her go, and looked down to Jacob, forcing a smile. Jacob grinned back, and threw his small body into Harry's midriff. Harry groaned painfully, and picked the boy up into a hug, letting Hermione into the house, and locking the door behind them.

As they headed to the living room, a red headed woman emerged from the kitchen, giving the visitors a wide smile. Hermione wrapped her arms around her, and gasped as she glimpsed the other woman's stomach.

'Ginny! Your getting so big!' she exclaimed, gently rubbing the pregnant woman's bump. Ginny laughed 'Yeah, well, if you had come to visit more often, maybe it wouldn't be such a shock, hm?' Hermione grimaced, and sat down. 'I just wish it was under better circumstances.' she admitted, glancing at Harry. He let Jacob down to sit with his mother, and asked 'Is it possible? I killed him, I know I did. We all saw his body.'

Hermione merely shrugged and answered 'It can't be possible, all the horcruxes are gone. It's impossible to bring the dead back. There are inferi, but they're just animated corpses, they don't possess a spirit. And the ressurection stone,' she interrupted as Harry opened his mouth, 'only enables you to communicate with a spirit form of the deceased.'

Harry sighed, leaning back on his chair, thinking hard. Hermione watched him for a moment, before Ginny broke the silence. 'Jacob, why don't you go play in Teddy's room for a bit?' she asked the boy kindly. He nodded, and took her hand as she led him into the hall, leaving Hermione and Harry alone.

He looked at his best friend sadly. 'Where's Draco?' he asked, though he thought he knew the answer. She raised a hand to her mouth, rubbing her lips softly with her index finger. 'He ... left.' she whispered.

Harry stood up, and wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders. He could tell she had finally succumbed to tears, and wondered how long she had been holding them in.

She looked up to him, and whispered 'Harry, I think Bellatrix has something to do with this. Remember her trial? When-' but he interrupted. Yes, he remembered vividly.

Bellatrix Lestrange had been captured after Voldemort was defeated. She had begged them to kill her, but she was instead sent back to Azkaban, with full security. Unfortunately, the law required a trial to do such a thing, so when Jacob was a few weeks old, Draco and Hermione attended the trial to submit evidence against her.

She had seen the baby with Hermione and Draco, seen Narcissa Malfoy take Jacob in her arms while Hermione testified. Bellatrix had screamed herself hoarse when she realised, her pureblood line had been dirtied. The only thing she had left, she had lost her husband, her master, her freedom, and now her family.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco Malfoy knelt before the cloaked figure, a warm fire crackling behind him. It should have been comforting, the warmth. But instead, he felt cornered, unsafe with his back to it.

'My Lord, may I ask..how?' he raised his icy, grey eyes to those of his masters. The tall, snakelike man raised his wand lazily, causing Draco to grunt and hunch over in pain.

'You may. ' He whispered, his voice gravelly. He strolled slowly around the dark room, glancing to the other two people in the room.

A woman, with crazy, unkempt black hair. She was thin, too thin. But the smile she wore reached her black eyes. The man beside her did not match her happiness, but instead looked white, and clammy, his eyes staring down at his son with confusion.

'I have your father, and dear aunt to thank. Harry Potter made a grave mistake when attempting to defeat me. He assumed, he listened to the great Dumbledore - and didn't question.' Voldemort fingered the wand in his hand delicately. '7 horcruxes, yes. 7 is, of course the magical number. But-' he flicked the black wand once again, and smirked at Draco's cries of pain.

'-but why not make more? At last minute, when Bellatrix-' at this, he strode towards the woman, and touched her cheek with his long, dirty finger. '-came to me, and told me that she had travelled back in time to warn me of my impending doom. Of course, their was only one option. Surrounded my so many disposable lives, it was easy. I made one more horcrux that night, young Mr. Malfoy. And that horcrux is in this room.' His eyes stayed on Bellatrix's far too long, his finger straying to her lips. Then, seeming to remember, he turned away, walking to Draco and squatting beside him.

Draco stared at the dusty floor, praying for the torture to end. But he knew it would soon enough. 'Ingenious. But- she was in Azkaban, I saw her. Father and I both visited-'

Voldemort laughed. 'Of course you did. Devoted servant she is, she hid for seven years, awaiting the moment Lucius slipped her a time turner. Then, it was all too easy. After excavating my grave, and performing a rejuvination ritual, I returned. Regretfully, I am not as strong as I once was. But, I hope, after some practice, I will soon return to power. Will you aid us, Draco?' he tilted his bald, pale head questioningly.

Draco raised his head slowly. He met his aunt's dark, excited eyes, then his father's cold, grey face. He held the gaze longer, wishing he could read Lucius' mind. What was he thinking, raising Voldemort again?

Finally, he met the eyes of Voldemort, dark, sunken. He nodded, his blonde hair sticking to the sweat of his face. 'Yes, my lord.'


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione clutched a warm cup of tea to her chest, staring out the black window of the spare bedroom. The night was cold, and Jacob snuggled closer to her, wrapped in several blankets, and let out a small snore.

Hermione chuckled quietly, looking down to her son. She sighed, remembering how he came to be. How strange, she thought, that a simple dare gone too far could result in something so wonderful.

Love hadn't brought her and her husband together, this miracle had.

-Flashback-

It was the Senior party in the Three Broomsticks, that's right, she thought. Strictly 6th and 7th years.

'Come on Granger, I bet you're too scared!' the Slytherin's had called out, all of them completely intoxicated, herself included. Harry and Ron were in a corner somewhere, with Lavender Brown and Parvarti Patil. They had left her.

Draco Malfoy's seemingly unconcious form was slung over a wooden seat. He had succumbed to the Firewhisky long ago.

'Oh shut up! He's disguisting! You all are!' she had replied smartly, well.. she intended it to sound smart, but it came out slurred, and she had to stick a foot out to prevent herself falling into Blaise Zabini.

Zabini laughed, pushing her forward. She giggled in response, then sighed. 'Fi-F-Fine!' she exclaimed, taking a white quill from a nearby Slytherin, and approaching Malfoy. She got close enough to touch him, and gasped. He looked innocent while sleeping, almost .. almost beautiful.

Hermione leaned over him, and gently tickled his nose with the feather. Draco snorted in response, sitting up. His eyes were still shut, and he looked faint.

The group behind her found this hilarious, and doubled over with laughter. Hermione held in a giggle, and dropped the quill on the floor. Suddenly-

Malfoy had lunged at her, planting his dry lips on hers and wrapping his arms clumsily around her neck.

And, well..they were both leglessly drunk after all. And how he had yelled in the morning, when he woke up next to his most hated Mudblood..

Hermione smiled at the memory. She sipped from her tea slowly, and was just about to place it on the bedside table when-

BANGBANGBANG!

The door downstairs shuddered, and saw Harry run to the top of the stairs, his wand drawn. Ginny rushed behind him, into Hermione's room, her face white.

'Who's there?' Harry called out warily.

'It's me!' A mature woman's voice yelled back. 'Narcissa!'


End file.
